


Wrong side of reality

by PepperPan



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anti - Freeform, College, Gore, It's kinda disgusting, M/M, Minor Character Death, Not youtubers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 03:53:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10845927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperPan/pseuds/PepperPan
Summary: It's all Wade's fault. And his dumb chocolate-covered pizza.





	Wrong side of reality

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you read the tags- there's a lot of gore happening here so if you feel uncomortable with it- just don't read this, you're not losing much, trust me.   
> Also for anyone who stuck with me through the last fic- I feel so so much better with this one, I'm actually super happy how it turned out and guess what it's finished :D!   
> I know it's not the longest, but for me it's enough to show what I wanted to show, so, enjoy!

_I’m never letting Wade make snacks ever again._

Mark moaned walking along the sidewalk and clutching his stomach- the food his friend made, from a recipe which he _claimed_ to be from a good source- well, wasn’t. It was doing backflips and possibly front-flips on his insides, making him want to puke up its entire contents on the grass. If it wasn’t for his strong will, it would have been the case half an hour ago.

Him and his friends were throwing these small “parties” every two weeks, as a break from their studies and classes. They met up at someone’s house and hung out the whole night, playing video games and eating shit food- this time _way_ too shit. Wade was stubborn on making a cheese pizza with melted chocolate on top- which sounds absolutely disgusting, was kind of good, and now was disgusting again. At least his stomach supported him on this one. They weren’t so agreeable when the curiosity made him eat two slices. Just imagining the melted spread on the strings of cheese made him feel sick all over again.

Wade’s apartment was about twenty minutes away from his, so he decided to take a walk there, breathe some questionably fresh air and maybe feel at least a bit better. He didn’t feel like he was in shape for driving- neither were his friends, who actually drank beer to add up to this mix. He didn’t want to think how _they_ felt right now.

He was currently holding up a particularly strong wave of nausea, when he saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head, but whatever just ran by, was gone now. Instead, he saw a dead rat laying on the street, with its stomach ripped and guts spilled all around. The animal had its eyes open in shock and limbs frozen in place, as if it was caught by surprise, not noticing the danger until the very last second. What was weird, was that the insides were spilled all across the street- as if the cat that killed it did it for fun, not to feed itself.

And in this moment, Mark realized that he wouldn’t make it any further. The sight of the dead animal made all the food in his stomach come up and in the very last second, he bent over a patch of grass and vomited everything he ate this day. The sour taste brought tears to his eyes and he made a decision to make Wade repay for his sins in an _edible_ dinner.

“Walk of shame, mate?” Suddenly he heard a voice above his head and looked up, his eyes meeting a pair of green ones. He stood up and wiped his mouth, wishing away the disgusting taste.

Taking a few steps back, he took in the stranger- or, should he say, strangers, as he was accompanied by two others. The guy who approached him was wearing some oversized hoodie and sweatpants, an outfit his other friends surprisingly decided to wear, too. He had a mischievous smile and kept his hands in pockets- a sight which made the alarms in Mark’s head go off. The fact that all of them stank of cigarettes and were buff and taller than him didn’t help it, either.

He laughed nervously, desperately searching for a way to escape before something bad happened. It was the last thing he needed this night.

“Not-not really, I’m just coming back from my friend’s. Got food poisoning, or something- he’s a _really_ bad cook.”

“Ah, I get it. See, Kevin over there is a walking catastrophe. This one time he made a pizza, I fed it to his goddamn goldfish, it was such a fucking disaster.” The thug shrugged his shoulders. “Needless to say, the damn fish died and Kevin paid for our food for the next month- which reminds me, that month ends exactly today, so won’t you help a brother out?” He asked grinning wildly and stepping closer to Mark. Two guys behind him also closed in, one of them pulling out a knife from somewhere and the other cracking his neck. Fucking fantastic.

The Asian felt his heart speed up and took a wobbly step backwards, trying to calm himself down, rationalize the situation. He was never a victim of mugging and the fact that it _had to_ eventually happen in an empty street at 4 a.m. was just his luck.

”I-I would, but I really don’t have anything. I left it all over at my friend’s house.” He stuttered, exactly remembering how drunk Bob ordered him to leave his wallet there “because someone’s gonna rob you and you’ll blame it on us”. At the time, he agreed with his friend- drunk or not - but right now, under the weight of the robbers’ eyes, he started to regret his decision. When it comes to his life, he really couldn’t care less how much it would it cost him. It’s not like he had hundred dollar bills sticking out of his ass- he was a college student after all.

The thug closest to Mark smacked his lips and shook his head, sending him a disappointed look.

“Aw, man, you sure? I started to like you, you know. Just, give us your wallet   man, it doesn’t have to get ugly.” Mark felt the palms of his hands go wet and he took a few more steps backwards, the robbers repeating his every move.

“I- I really don’t have anything, I swear!”

“Ain’t that a shame. Hey, Kevin!” He shouted over his shoulder to the taller thug, the one who had a knife and was now playing with it. “You have a chance to redeem yourself. Go ahead.” Kevin grinned wildly and gripping the knife tightly in his hand, he started walking towards Mark- which the latter took as a signal to flight.

He turned on his heel and started sprinting in any given direction. He didn’t have time to come up with a plan- his instincts kicked in first and made him run _faster, further_ , away from the danger. A few seconds later he started hearing loud footsteps along with shouts and laughing, which made his legs run at ever higher pace. They were after him. And they weren’t afraid that he would actually get away.  

The world was a big blur. His feet felt heavier than ever and a white glow covered his vision- a reminder just _how_ fucked he was. His entire body was screaming in pain, yet he couldn’t stop now- the thugs were getting closer and closer with every step.

Mark stumbled on a brick poking out of the ground and the sounds of the chase got closer to him. He was hit with sudden realization, that he needed to figure something out _fast_ ­­or he would lose more than his pride.

He took a sharp turn in some alley in hopes of losing the thieves there, but as he took a glance up, his blood ran cold.

It was a dead end.

Mark ran up to the very end of the road, where stood a tall brick wall- cutting off his only way of escape. He supported himself on it and took a few deep breaths in, before turning around. He frantically scanned his surroundings, searching for a hiding spot, a getaway route, _anything,_ but there was nothing to save him. Only three thieves, who were now calmly walking towards him with unpleased and angry expressions.

”See, I was ready to let you go _almost_ unharmed, mate. But now you got me seriously pissed.” The leader stepped closer to Mark and the half-Asian noticed knuckle-dusters decorating his both hands. What a fucking amazing choice in jewelry. “Now you’re going to have a seriously _bad_ night you fucker.”

As the man was getting closer to Mark, he decided that he didn’t want to go down as a coward. Despite his heavy breathing, nausea, foggy vision and shaking limbs, he put his arms up in guard and looked at the man with bravery. It’s not like he had anything to lose.

The thug laughed at his attempt to appear confident.

“How cute. I wonder if you’re going to be this fucking ballsy when I break your fucking skull?” The man was now a meter away from Mark. He raised his arm and the half-Asian closed his eyes, preparing himself for the blow.

_If only he hadn’t eaten that damn pizza._

The man grunted and took a swing… that never arrived. Mark opened slowly his eyes and _immediately_ regretted getting out of bed this morning.

The thug was frozen in mid-movement, staring with disbelief at his arm- or, should he say, what was left of it- as the whole thing from shoulder down was ripped away. The arm was laying on the ground, slowly rolling away from them.

That’s when all hell broke loose. The guy stumbled to the ground and started screaming in pain, as the blood was spraying all across his body, covering him in a thick coat of red liquid. With tears rolling down his face, he crawled away, not ripping his eyes away from the disgusting stump. Mark looked down at the disembodied limb and leaned on the cold brick wall behind him.

A giggle echoed throughout the alley.   

Mark looked around. The leader of the thugs was still laying on his side, screaming and crying, while the two others were frozen in shock, staring at their wailing friend. Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, a shadow flashed before him.

The leader screamed even louder, making inhuman sounds which made Mark’s skin creep with goosebumps. He slowly turned his head to look at the man.

The red figure was somehow projecting _even more_ _blood._ The man was laying on his back trembling with terror, eyes wide open in torture and fear. Next to him, was his _second arm_.

Mark felt his knees give up and he tumbled to the ground, not looking away from the man- the rips were unclean, the rest of his bones sticking out along with loose flesh and skin. His stumps were painting the whole street red, projecting profoundly _gallons_ of blood.

After a few seconds, he stopped screaming and slowly dropped his legs to the ground, turning his head sideways. He blinked a few times and locked his eyes with Mark’s. He moved his mouth, trying to say something, but no sound came out.

Then, he stopped moving altogether, and with the sound of blood dripping to the drain, his lifeless eyes were stuck staring into his.

Once again, he heard the same giggle, this time closer to him.

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the dead body of a man, who, just a minute ago was about to beat him up. He was so terrifying then, with silver knuckledusters and cruel look in his eyes- now, _armless_ _and dead._

Now, there was something even scarier threatening him.

A beast.

A monster.

He couldn’t look away, because if he did, he would have to face it.

Suddenly, the two other thugs started screaming. Mark, using all his might, raised his head just in time to see how they started running away from the alley- which he would also love to do, if he wasn’t frozen in place.

The shadow appeared again- stopping just in front of them.

Before they could slow down, the figure moved at _impossible_ speed and got to the thug closest to the street. The attacker kicked his knee bending it _the wrong_ way, causing the helpless man to scream in agony and fall down.

The other thug started slowly backing away, further into the alley- his only way of escape was cut off. Thankfully _for him_ , the attacker seemed to busy himself with his other victim.

The figure walked slowly to the sobbing man on the ground and bent over, grabbing him by hair. He slowly raised him, taking his sweet time listening to the man’s sobs and mumbled begs. He stopped when the man’s head was at the same level as his stomach. He stood like this for a few seconds, taking in the man’s fear, enjoying his _power, dominance,_ and then _punched_ him under his chin.

When the attacker’s clenched fist collided with the bottom of the man’s jaw, a loud _crack_ erupted and the man flew a few good _meters._ He roughly hit the ground not too far away from his dead friend.

Mark looked at his face and once again was hit by a wave of nausea, when he noticed that the man’s jaw was completely loose. He wasn’t dead- but he wasn’t going anywhere or talking anytime soon.

They got the message loud and clear. _No one would escape._

The monster was now walking towards the last man. As he was getting closer, Mark could make out some of his features- like how _human_ he looked. He didn’t have four arms or two heads- he resembled a normal guy with skinny frame and dull green hair. Which he definitely _wasn’t._

“H-hey, I didn’t r-really want to do anything!” Kevin stuttered, slowly backing away from the attacker, who took him as the next victim. “Trevor- it was his idea, I- I didn’t want to hurt this guy. I- I can give you what you want, you want money? I- I have money, I can g-give you my phone, I c-can suck you off, j-just, p-please don’t- “ The thug was crying, but the look in his eyes told Mark that he didn’t believe his own words. There was no saving- and all three of them knew that very well. “Please, don’t kill-“

“Oh just shut up.” The monster growled and in the blink of an eye appeared in front of the man. Kevin’s eyes opened wide in shock, but he didn’t even have a chance to scream, as the attacker grabbed his head and _ripped it off in one move._

Mark observed as the headless body collapsed to the ground, blood splashing across the monster’s figure. He seemed rather indifferent, as he kicked it away and threw the head across the street. The alley was now pooling with blood, which made the killer’s figure glow with red. He was standing in the middle of the street with his whole body, face, hair covered in blood, disformed bodies around him. Mark felt like he was watching a bad horror movie or playing some cheap indie game- but the smell of copper in the air brought him back to reality.

The half-Asian didn’t even have the strength to cry. He knew he would die in the next five minutes- in more or less brutal way. As he stared at the scenery in front of him, he accepted his face.

He thought about his friends and family and regretted not telling them more often how much he loved them. He regretted not doing anything memorable in his life. He spent half of it on video games and other half on going to school and studying- the only people who would miss him were his friends and family, the rest will forget about him next month. As he was laying waiting for his death in some beat-up alley, it all seemed pointless. If he was going to die this way, why did he live at all?

He looked up to confront his killer.

Who was staring right back at him with piercing blue eyes.

His whole face was covered in red, the blood from his victims smeared across his features- only those cold eyes piercing through the liquid, looking right into his soul. Mark felt a shiver go down his spine as the man grinned, revealing a set of white, sharp fangs and took a few steps towards him.

Suddenly, the thug with the broken jaw moved. In his last attempt to escape, he used his arms to push himself up and slowly crawl away. However, his broken knee made him move at a snail’s pace, definitely not fast enough to run away. He reminded Mark of an animal, which even though wounded and half-dead, was still desperately trying to save itself, despite the predator looming over it.

The killer looked at him and the smile faded from his face. Cracking fingers, he walked over to the man and kicked him in the ribs, rolling him over on his back. The man yelled in pain, the tips of the attacker’s shoes breaking into his ribcage. Suddenly, he sat down on the thug’s chest, pining the man down in place- ultimately deciding his fate. The man started wailing, trying to say something, but even if his jaw wasn’t broken, Mark doubted that his words would matter anyway. The man wiggled in attempt to shake the killer off, but a solid punch in his face efficiently shut him up.

But the attacker didn’t stop after this. He kept landing punches, the dull thump repeating itself over and over again- even after the man ceased to move. His lifeless hands fell to his sides, but the killer continued to ram his fists into his head. The skull eventually gave in and the sight of man’s head being slowly reduced to a mush made Mark look away.

He stared at the red brick wall and accompanying him was a sound of breaking bones and mashing them with the soggy brain. A tear rolled down his cheek, and after it, a million more.

He just wanted it to end. Doesn’t matter how- he could run away, he could die. He couldn’t stand it any longer. He was sitting in a puddle of blood, surrounded by three bodies, limbs and a serial killer, listening to the most disgusting thing he heard in his life. He didn’t have any energy left- to run away, to say anything, even to fear. He was done.

He looked back at the killer and saw a smile decorating his face. The man kept beating the other up, and with every punch his face was being covered in more and more blood- yet he never stopped smiling, _killing_ giving him pleasure. He was a psycho. A total fucking freak.

The killer gave the man’s head a few final blows and pleased with his work, wiped his face with his sleeve, smearing himself in even more blood. He stood up and admired his work, before finally looking at Mark.

Their eyes met and the man slowly walked over to him, stepping on the dead bodies, yet not paying attention to any of them. He stopped right in front of Mark and squatted, so that their heads were at the same level. He scanned Mark’s face and grinning tilted his head, a double-forked tongue creeping through his teeth.

“What should I do with you, huh?”

**Author's Note:**

> Can you tell how done was I with writing fluff?   
> I saw this thing on tumblr, someone wrote down their idea of meeting with Dark and I was so disagreeing with it I decided to write my own version- except, with Anti, and the main character is Mark, because I hate POV'd fics. I just imagine that if you were "lucky" enough to meet them irl it would be a bit more terrifying than romantic. Also sorry for writing it under Mark/Anti, no one would read it other way ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I mean I guess you can imagine what happened later, I wanted to leave it open for interpretation.   
> I would like to thank buzzfeed and their ridiculous recipies (yes, chocolate on pizza, Jesus Christ).  
> I would also like to thank Jack, as in yesterday's livestream he noticed my message and said some things in polish, which made my entire week and gave me enough motivation to finish this thing. I mean of course he could've meant other polish person on the chat but shhhhhh it's special for me okay  
> As always, point out any mistakes I made and laugh at me for them, leave your opinions and thank you for reading! :D


End file.
